


Not Exactly French Pastry

by FarenMaddox



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Multi, OT3, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:52:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarenMaddox/pseuds/FarenMaddox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himawari deserves a congratulatory gift for getting that job, but what she wants is a bit surprising</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Exactly French Pastry

“Himawari-chan, I can't believe it,” Watanuki gushed into the phone. “It's been ages since we last spoke!”

“Watanuki-kun, it's good to hear your voice,” she said. “It has been a long time. Since I visited you on your birthday, right?”

“Yes, I think so. Thanks again for travelling all the way over here to celebrate with us.”

“You know I'd never miss your birthday.”

There wasn't a hint of regret in either voice to indicate how they felt about only getting to see each other once a year. They'd learned after the first two years of this that it was far better not to allow that pain into these conversations or they'd wind up wasting the whole thing feeling miserable. It was about making the most of what they had.

“Please, tell me how you've been since then.”

Shizuka could hear the whole conversation, as he was standing right at Watanuki's elbow. He wasn't normally so intrusive when she called. Since he could go visit her anytime he wanted, it felt selfish to encroach upon their time together. But she'd already called him earlier today on his mobile to ask a favor. So here he was eavesdropping and waiting for the favor to come up in their conversation.

Watanuki and Himawari chatted for a few minutes about how business was going at the shop, about the girls' day out that she'd taken Kohane-chan on, about the bottle of wine that she and Doumeki-kun had drunk together after he'd sent it over. As much as Shizuka loved each of them, he almost loved better to watch them with each other. Even just on the phone. Watanuki was every day learning to be more reserved, more mysterious, more aloof and distant and unsmiling. He wore Yuuko's drama the way he wore her kimono. But when it came to Himawari, that all fell away. When he spoke to her, he was relaxed. His face opened into an unguarded smile. He laughed and waved his hands for emphasis.

Shizuka had seen how Himawari acted, too. She was the same way. She opened up to him and her laughter sounded real and lovely. They brought out the best in each other, she and Watanuki. He loved watching it happen.

Finally, they arrived on the subject he'd been waiting for.

“So, is it all right if I ask about the job you applied for? The marketing job with the cosmetics company? Doumeki told me about it.”

Not that the other man looked at him or acknowledged that he was standing here. Watanuki was totally focused on Himawari right now.

“Oh, Watanuki-kun, you'll never guess—I got it!”

“You got the job?”

“They liked me so much that they called me back the very next day!”

“Ah, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you, Himawari-chan! We have to celebrate, of course. I'll send Doumeki over with something special, so tell me what you'd like. It could be anything. Something sweet, knowing you. Hey, I've been wanting to try making _profiteroles—_ maybe with strawberry cream and chocolate ganache?”

Himawari's laughter was a cool and sunny spring morning. It was the best sound in the world.

“That sounds lovely, and you know I'd never turn down a pastry made by you, but I was . . . thinking of something else I wanted.”

“Name it and it's yours,” Watanuki said warmly.

Shizuka didn't even want to be snarky like he usually was and point out that Watanuki's generosity was contingent on his own willingness to help. Whatever she might ask for, he'd be the one going out to get, or at least get the ingredients for it. But Watanuki was so caught up in the happiness he felt when talking to her that Shizuka didn't even want to tease him. He didn't want to take away that genuine smile that was becoming so rare.

Besides. He already knew what Himawari was going to ask for.

“I want you and Doumeki-kun to go into your bedroom. Take the phone with you.”

“My bedroom . . . what are we doing?”

“I only get to see you once a year, but that doesn't mean we can't share this more often,” was her reply.

Watanuki was taking too long to put it together, so Shizuka straightened up from his against-the-wall slouch and said plainly, “We're gonna have phone sex with her.”

Watanuki whirled around and gave him his favorite incredulous-and-disgusted look. “Don't be crass! My precious Himawari-chan—”

“—absolutely wants to have phone sex, is what your precious Himawari-chan wants,” the voice on the phone interrupted dryly.

It wasn't like this should come as a total surprise. The things the three of them did together on his birthday every year were a pretty good precedent. It wouldn't be the same with Himawari on the phone where they couldn't see her eyelids fluttering or the curl of her toes, but Shizuka was looking forward to it all the same. It was some much-needed variety for them. He wasn't going to deny that he enjoyed making love to Watanuki and to Himawari separately when he was with one of them. But the few times that the three of them had been together were beyond that. They were magic.

“O-oh,” Watanuki stuttered, his face flushing red and unconsciously cradling the phone closer to his cheek. “That's what you want to do to celebrate?”

“Well, if you were going to make those _profiteroles_ anyway,” Himawari said cheekily. “But yes, that's what I want. I. I want. I want to tell you what to do.”

Now that was something she hadn't mentioned. Shizuka felt his eyebrows go up and he leaned in closer to the phone.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Oh, there you are,” she said. “I mean I want, well. I'll think of what I want you to do to each other, and I'll tell you. I want to be able to picture what you look like so you'll have to do it the way I say?” she ended on a squeak.

“That's fine,” Shizuka said, his blood quickening.

“Yeah,” Watanuki agreed hoarsely. Oh, Watanuki _really_ liked that idea. He was already shifting uncomfortably with a growing erection. And the thought of that happening under the folds of that kimono made Shizuka suddenly need to reach down to adjust the fit of his slacks.

“Good,” Himawari purred. “Now get into the bedroom.”

They scrambled to obey her. Watanuki took the phone. Shizuka snagged the bottle of sake he'd been carrying toward the porch when he stopped to answer it. It was still warm. Perfect.

“Hey. Tell her we've got drinks,” he said. “She should know everything, right?”

Watanuki complied.

“Oooohhh, okay. You are both still dressed, right?”

They were.

“Good. Pour yourselves a drink while I go get a glass of sake, too. We can all drink together. Don't undress yet.”

They drank their sake in silence while they waited for Himawari to get some for herself. Watanuki was blushing every time he looked at Shizuka, which he found amusing. It wasn't as though this was their first time. What about the phone made it so different?

“Stop smirking at me,” Watanuki said. More like sighed, without any heat or passion. His fingers were curved around his cup in that elegant way that meant he was dying to touch Shizuka and get this started.

“Then stop blushing.” That made him blush even more. Shizuka's fingers were tight on his own cup, trying to hold himself back. Could Himawari get a cup of sake any _slower_?

“Hello? Are you there?” She sounded slightly breathless, as though she'd been running.

“Are you in your bedroom?” Watanuki asked.

Good thinking. She could talk them through what she was doing, too. Not even started yet, and Shizuka was already thinking about perfecting their technique so they could try it with him at Himawari's place. Watanuki and Himawari could take turns as the director.. He could feel himself starting to glow with contentment at the role he would be playing, the one who acted out the fantasies they envisioned for their other lover.

“Yes. I'm laying down on my bed. I'm going to set the phone down and put the speaker on.” Muffled sounds, then: “Can you still hear me clearly?”

“Yes,” they both answered.

“I think I'll start with taking my shirt off. And you'll start with Kimihiro taking Shizuka's shirt off. Kimihiro is wearing a kimono today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Yes, start with unbuttoning his shirt, Kimihiro.”

They were always Kimihiro and Shizuka in the bedroom, but only in the bedroom. It was a secret place. This was their own little world that they had to keep to themselves.

“Shizuka, you can touch him while he's doing this. Touch his waist and kiss him. Kimihiro, take off his belt. I'm slipping out of my skirt now. I've got on stockings, and they're really stretchy, so I have to go _slow_ while I take them off my legs.” She paused to let them envision her hands rolling the stockings over her slender, smooth legs. “Kimihiro, please get down on your knees while you take his pants off him. Shizuka, let him touch you however he likes. You have to keep your hands to yourself while he does. Tell me what Kimihiro is doing.”

“He's on his knees, and he's sliding my slacks down. He's cupping my thighs with his hands, he's running them over the backs of my legs, he's—mmm, grabbing my ass. Oh. Unh! He's nuzzling his face in m-my—”

“Kimihiro, leave the underwear on him for a minute. Shizuka, now you need to undress him. He can stay on his knees for this. I've gotten all my clothes off. I'm taking the pins out of my hair now. It's spreading out all over my pillow.”

They could picture her like that, soft skin in creamy white nestled in white sheets, and wild dark curls surrounding her. Her full breasts and flat stomach.

“Kimihiro, now you tell me what's happening.”

“He is kneeling down and getting on his knees behind me. He's sliding the kimono off my left shoulder. Ahhhh. He's kissing and nibbling on my shoulder. Taking the—hah—other sleeve off while he k-kisses my neck.”

“Shizuka, you'll go inside him this time. Take him to the bed. Keep talking.”

Shizuka realized then that he didn't like picturing Himawari on her own bed, alone. It felt too distant. He wanted to think of her here, on this bed, with them. So when he spoke, he put her there.

“Himawari is already on the bed, waiting for us. Kimihiro gets to the bed first and crawls on top of you, to kiss you.”

Kimihiro turned around for a moment, surprise flashing in his eyes, but then he smiled. He understood. He took over the narrative.

“Mmm. I kiss your lips, and your jaw, and the hollow place on your throat. You're shivering. I gather up your hair to one side and kiss your neck.”

“And I am kneeling behind Kimihiro, putting my hands on his waist and grinding against him.” This part of the fantasy, at least, was really happening. Kimihiro was on his elbows and knees on the bed, laying his palms down flat on the sheets, his eyes closed to better picture her there. Shizuka thrust his hips forward and shuddered at the sweet friction of his cock searching for entrance into his lover through the cloth of his underwear. Kimihiro had goosebumps on his arms and legs.

“Do I get to take that off yet?” he muttered.

Himawari seemed to know what he meant, because she chuckled. “No,” she said firmly. “Pleasure me first.”

They both paused to let that sink in and arouse them.

“Then I am bending lower, to kiss your breasts. Flicking my tongue. I know you like that.” Kimihiro's voice was slower and deeper than Watanuki the shop keeper's. Shizuka felt goosebumps on his own arms. He slid his hands down and dug his fingers into Kimihiro's thighs, feeling the muscles bunching as he acted out the movement downward even though nobody was really beneath him. “Shizuka is touching me from behind, up and down my legs and hips, while I am running my hands over your ribs.”

They could hear Himawari making tiny little gasping noises. Shizuka thought she must be using her own hands to act out the things that Kimihiro said. Flicking a finger at her nipple, running a palm over her own side. If she was here, she'd be stretching her arms over her head and grabbing at the pillow. Stretching her neck, pushing her head back, closing her eyes.

Kimihiro hadn't been wearing anything under the kimono, and his cock was stiff and hard against his belly. Shizuka reached around and took it in one hand as his other hand laid firmly against his hip. Kimihiro groaned.

“Shizuk-ah! Is touching m-me,” he stuttered, trying to tell Himawari.

“I'm stroking him while I watch him kissing you,” he added for her. “He's shivering.”

“I'm—moving lower. Kissing your belly. Putting my hands under your hips and lifting you. Spreading your legs.”

“Mmmm,” Himawari replied dreamily, no doubt spreading her legs on her own.

Shizuka loved the narrow, taut shape of Kimihiro's ass, the tight muscle he still retained in buttocks and thighs from all that running during school sports. He was stroking his cock with one hand and running the other hand thoughtfully over those pleasing muscles.

“Mmmm,” Kimihiro replied, just as lost in pleasure as she was. “Moving— lower— to your— mmmm,” he groaned when Shizuka ran his thumb over the slit of his cock. “Do you still shave there?”

“Yes,” Himawari said huskily.

“Your skin is so smooth,” he said. “So smooth under my tongue. Like velvet. So warm.”

“You have to give Shizuka a little attention. I decided I want him inside of you while you do this to me,” Himawari said breathlessly. “Let me watch while you turn around and take his underwear off and stroke him. Kimihiro, you get him ready for you.”

He obediently turned around, and Shizuka caught his breath as he drank in the differences that really stood out between his lover Kimihiro and the Watanuki who existed outside their bed. It was the deepening in those blue eyes, that haze of lust that glazed them, the way he wasn't afraid to show when he was trembling. Kimihiro cupped him through the fabric, licked at his ear. Kissed him on the mouth. Kimihiro spoke to Himawari and explained what he was doing. Shizuka couldn't, because he was holding his breath. Kimihiro's cock was hard and red in between them, and Shizuka was so tempted to just grab it and stroke him into climax. He looked so ready for it.

But this was Himawari's scenario to run, so he held himself still, only moving enough to push his underwear off onto the floor before resuming his kneeling position. He was already painfully hard, but Kimihiro was smiling his hungriest smile. He bent himself down and—

“Kimihiro is sucking me, just a little.” His voice was shaking. “Himawari should put her fingers in him while he's doing this.”

“Ohhh,” was her moaned response. If she had been there, she would have done just that. Instead, Kimihiro stopped after only a few moments and turned around so that Shizuka could do it. He reached for the bottle on the nightstand and put lube on his fingers and started to rub at Kimihiro's hole. “Yes,” Himiwari purred. “I've got my fingers inside of you, and your mouth is full of Shizuka, so he'll have to tell me what's happening.”

“Kimihiro is turning into melted butter,” he said, unable to help his humor. Kimihiro was bent right in half, keeping his backside up but burying his face into the mattress.

“Unhhh,” was his satisfied response as Shizuka thrust his fingers in.

“So now that we're ready, Himawari will lay back and let Kimihiro go back to work with his tongue. And I'll go inside him.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Kimihiro, I need you.”

Shizuka removed his fingers just as Kimihiro shuddered happily at the thought of her cleft and his tongue. Shizuka himself closed his eyes and pictured that. He knew what it looked like.

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “That feels s-so good.”

She was touching herself, Shizuka thought. Putting her fingers exactly where she wanted Kimihiro's mouth. Pale skin and white sheets and goosebumps on her arms. He thrust himself inside Kimihiro too fast. Kimihiro threw his head back and shouted-groaned-whimpered.

“He's inside, he's inside, he's in— ah,” he chanted.

Shizuka pulled back a little, careful and slow. He stroked his hands over Kimihiro's ribs and haunches. He didn't want to hurt him.

“Yes, I'm inside him,” he said. “And now I'm going to fuck him while he pleasures you.”

With that decisive statement, their movements began in earnest. Kimihiro could be very loud during this part, and since Himawari needed to hear them to know what was happening, Shizuka tried to make noise too. He let his throat open up to grunt as he thrust in and out. Kimihiro was yowling with pleasure. They could hear Himawari. The phone was alive with static and whimpering and gasping.

“Oh, oh, oh!” she said with sudden urgency. “I'm— I'm going to— oh!”

Kimihiro gasped and laughed with delight, as though he could really feel her orgasm through his lips. The shaking pulse of his laughter rippled down through him, and he focused it on clenching tight around Shizuka.

“Oh my god,” Shizuka muttered thickly. “I'm stroking Kimihiro now,” he announced, and reached around to do just that. Kimihiro's poor cock was dripping and ready. “He's going to keep going down on you. Make her come again. She can come again at the same time that you do.”

“Okay,” Kimihiro gasped. “Can you feel it, Himawari?” he panted. He made a humming sound into the phone.

“No no no no no,” she chanted in a high pitch. “Oh no it's too much no—”

“Nh nh nh nh, Shizuka Shizuka Shizuka,” Kimihiro was repeating right along with her. “I'm gonna — ahhhh—”

Kimihiro groaned magnificently as he spurted hot and thick into Shizuka's hand. He kept stroking, milking every drop. He found he couldn't focus on his own thrusts while he was concentrating on doing this and on what Himawari's face must look like, with her eyes screwed shut and her mouth open in a half-pained cry.

“Ahhhh!” The phone squealed with her shriek.

Shizuka gripped Kimihiro's hips hard and started pounding into him.

“Oh god, not so hard!” Kimihiro cried out. “He's holding me so tight, he's so ready, poor Shizuka, Himawari we have to make him come we have to—” He lost his breath and just gritted his teeth and gripped the sheets.

“I'm sliding off the bed and coming around behind you, Shizuka,” she said, her voice suddenly clear and strong. “I'm behind you, kissing the back of your neck. I'm scratching your shoulders with my fingernails, just a little. Just a little scrape. My lips on your neck.”

Shizuka's hair was dripping with sweat and the drips on his neck he could almost imagine as flicks of her tongue. He shivered, thrust, and then it was done. He shot into Kimihiro and felt a groan tear its way out of him.

“Yes, yes,” Kimihiro cried out. “That's it!”

Himawari was making pleased noises right into his ear, like she was really there. He petted Kimihiro's flanks with affection as he slowly relaxed. He didn't want to come out of him yet. He just wanted to sit here and hold him and pretend Himawari was draped over his back. He wanted all three of them to be here together, just for another minute.

“That was good,” he said.

“Mmph,” was Kimihiro's noise of agreement. He was puddled in a folded-over heap on the bed.

They could hear the whumpfing noise as Himawari flopped back down on her own bed. “That was wonderful,” she corrected. “Thank you so much. That was exactly what I wanted.”

“Still gonna make you a pastry. You got the job you wanted. You deserve lots of celebration.” Kimihiro's buzz of pleasure made his mumbles sound like sleep-talk. Hazy and dreamy.

Himawari was giggling at him. “Okay. But we should . . . we should do this again sometime.”

“We really should.”

“Next time I'm going to come to your house,” Shizuka spoke up. He was carefully pulling out now, and stretching Kimihiro's legs out to make the slender man lie down comfortably. He flopped down next to him and stroked his lover's sweat-damp hair. “I'm going to be Kimihiro's proxy so he can be inside you.”

“But if that's . . . then where would you be?” Himawari asked in a worried voice.

“You'll be riding him. I'll just be sitting beside you watching the two of you and jerking myself off. That's what I want next time.”

“Is that okay?” Kimihiro looked concerned. “Acting for me and not taking anything . . . are you sure?”

“Yeah, it's okay.”

The three of them belonged together and he was the only thing that could keep Himawari and Kimihiro connected like this. He got to be with both of them, and he got to help them be with each other. It was very okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to fill a request for the clampkink community on DreamWidth, and I'm now importing it here. There is also artwork of Himawari (done by KittenKin) as a companion to this story, at the following link: http (colon double slash) i.imgur.com/SwjY6vk (dot) png


End file.
